ENT03 Returned
by A Rhea King
Summary: The Enterprise crew discovers a 20th century space shuttle thought lost. But did they find it by accident, or is someone from the future using it to alter the present?
1. Chapter 1

RETURNED

By A. Rhea King

**CHAPTER 1**

_2010_

Gravity leaned on Commander Casey Reese and he had to use every scrap of strength he had to turn his head. Outside the shuttle, clouds quickly disappeared into the blackness of space. Beside him, co-pilot Lieutenant Ashley Grover was struggling to keep her finger poised over the thruster buttons.

"In what part of our training did we cover _this_?" Doctor Frosty Wetzbarger yelled over Casey's headphones, his German accent thickened by anxiety.

"It was part of the G simulator, Doc. Hold on to your lunch or you'll be snor'n it," Casey replied.

A hoot burst over their helmet radios.

Lieutenant Kenneth Grey, with his Texan drawl, laughed, "Let's do it again! Not even a Brahma is this exciting!"

"Your enthusiasm overwhelms, Lieutenant," Wetzbarger groaned.

Their helmet radios crackled with static before the Com Operator at ground control told them, "You are ten seconds from clearing escape velocity, Arcadian. Prepare to cut thrusters at fourteen twenty-two hundred. Copy?"

"Copy, Houston," Ashley replied, looking down at the bold digital clock on the instrument panel. "I am reading fourteen twenty-one hundred and fifty-five seconds. Thrusters cutting in five... Four... Three... Two... One."

Ashley tapped the buttons and Arcadian II began losing momentum. They heard Wetzbarger breathe an audible sigh of relief.

"Make attitude adjustments toward the lunar orbital station," the COM Operator ordered.

"Confirmed," Casey replied. "I'll even compensate for the liquid nitrogen someone loaded _uneven_."

Ashley chuckled, pulling her shoulder straps loose. She moved slowly in weightlessness as she began a systems check. Casey pulled out of his shoulder straps, looking at the back of the cockpit. A large Navajo sat in the very back seat, his eyes glued on the vast blackness outside.

"Still alive, Gary?"

"Yeah!" Doctor Gary Walking Eagle answered with an open grin.

"Can we take off our helm--" Wetzbarger stopped when something hit the outer hull. "What was that?" His voice raised a quarter octave.

Ashley and Casey exchange concerned looks when the noise happened again.

"Get strapped back in, Ash," Casey keyed his mic. "Houston?"

"Go ahead, Arcadian."

"Are you showing our path clear?" Casey asked.

Three more thumps resounded along the hull. Ashley moved to the window, looking out.

"Path is not clear, Arcadian. SAT shows Gustuv is closer than initially anticipated. A meteor shower is headed straight for you. Fire thrusters and take a heading of two-niner mark eight five. Target re-entry sector Beta."

Ashley looked back at Casey. He pointed to her seat, looking down at the fuel readout.

"Houston, has this mission been scrubbed?"

"Affirmative. Get your butts out of there, Commander! It's coming fast."

Ashley grabbed the back of her chair and pulled herself into her seat. She was buckling in when a bright light flashed all around them.

"Houston, where is this light coming from?" Casey demanded.

Something exploded in the payload area, throwing the ship into a tailspin.

"HOUSTON!"

Casey grabbed for the control stick, struggling to control the out of control shuttle. Earth flashed past the front window. When it passed again, it was much further away. An explosion bucked the shuttle, its force sending Arcadian II spinning tail over nose into deep space...

_2154_

Archer turned a wicked glare on the blue gas giant. He flexed his jaw, a sign his anger was threatening to take control. His glare moved to the door of his ready room when the doorbell beeped.

"Come in," Archer growled.

Trip walked in, sitting down in the chair across the room. Archer turned back to the window.

"Well?" Archer asked.

"After T'Pol got the Reat calmed down, they agreed to another meeting on their planet. We probably shouldn't wear blue to meet them this time."

"They fired on us because of a color!" Archer wanted to punch something. Instead he leaned into the window.

Quiet and careful, Trip reminded him, "It was just a misunderstanding."

"It's always _just a misunderstanding_ of something small and stupid!"

Trip smiled and tried to lighten the mood. "Sometimes they just shoot because they're having a bad hair day, Cap'n."

Archer shot him a glare. Trip looked away. Archer looked back at the gas giant, resolving a debate he'd been mulling over two 'misunderstandings' ago.

"We're going home."

Trip's head jerked up. "_What_?"

They began to slowly break orbit from the gas giant.

"We're going home."

"Cap'n--"

Archer's desk companel beeped, interrupting Trip.

Archer tapped the nearest companel. "Go ahead."

"Captain, the magnetic interference of the gas giant has diminished and sensors have detected a small craft two thousand kilometers from our position," T'Pol told him. "It isn't responding to hails. Should we see if they need assistance?"

Archer wanted to say no. "Yes." Archer tapped the companel, sinking into his desk chair.

Trip looked at his hands. "What if the crew doesn't want to go home?"

"There will be other captains, other ships."

Trip leaned forward on his legs. "I know this was frustrating, but--"

Archer's companel beeped again. "What?" He didn't hide his irritation.

"Captain, you are needed on the bridge," T'Pol said.

"Just handle it, T'Pol," Archer reached out to tap the companel.

"I advise you to come to the bridge, sir."

Archer stood and stormed out. Trip quickly followed, not about to let this conversation end with them going back to Earth.

#

The depression and anger Archer had been wrestling with for a month dissolved at the sight on the view screen.

A twenty-first century space shuttle hung before _Enterprise_. There was a gaping hole in the side, exposing the wall separating the payload bay from the rest of the ship and a large chunk of the wing was missing. Painted below the cockpit windows was ARCADIAN II with an American flag under it.

"Wow!" Trip laughed.

"This is like finding a king's ransom." Archer walked closer to the view monitor.

"Guess we'll have to hang out here for a few days to figure out what happened to her, won't we Cap'n?" Trip asked with a hint of bait in his voice.

Archer didn't reply, but he smiled at the question. Not even the depression could overcome the awe. Arcadian II was a holy grail; one that even his father had been anxious to find once his warp drive was installed in a ship.

"Yes we do," Archer finally said. "Get a shuttle pod out there and pull her in, Trip. Let's find out what happened to the old girl."

#

Archer entered the cargo bay and grinned. The Arcadian II took up half the bay and crewmen from every area of the ship were working on it. Archer walked up to the nose, laying his hand on the black cone. Up close he could see the fine lines between the hull plates. They were thin in comparison to _Enterprise_'s hull plating. It made him wondered how the astronauts had ever felt safe in this craft.

"We think it was the meteor shower," he heard Trip say.

Archer turned, finding Trip standing behind him. He held a Petri dish out to Archer. Archer took it, tilting it back and forth to move the meteor granules inside around.

"T'Pol is analyzing the samples to see if it did come from Gustuv. She's hypothesizes that the shower put holes in her, but didn't cause the big one. She thinks the rocks punctured the liquid oxygen or liquid nitrogen tanks in the science lab and they exploded, rupturing the hull." Trip turned to look at the Arcadian. "But we'll know more once we can get to the black box in the cockpit."

"Phlox hasn't removed the bodies yet?"

Trip shook his head. He smiled at Archer, but Archer could see a hint of sadness in it. "I know what it must have been like for them to die freezing to death."

"You don't think they suffocated first?"

"Hard to say. He said he'd know more after the autopsies."

Someone called for Trip. Archer handed the Petri dish back.

"Why don't you look in on her?" Trip said, motioning into the Arcadian as he passed the hole.

Archer didn't have to be encouraged; that was why he'd come down. He walked inside, smiling at his crew. Like giddy, eager archeologists just uncovering a new pharaoh's tomb, they were working with a lot of talking. Archer wandered in, eavesdropping as he passed some. He turned when someone laid a hand on his shoulder and stared at the man behind him. He was only a few centimeters shorter than Archer, had a long face and nose, sculptured lips, and short brown hair. He wore a strange smile on his face, as if he knew every secret of the universe. Archer knew there were crewmen on his ship he barely knew, but he was sure he at least knew their faces and he'd never seen this man's face.

"Captain Archer," he said. His voice was silky smooth, full of cunning and dark humor. "I've found something you should see."

"What?"

"It's over here, sir."

The crewman walked over a pile of liquid oxygen and nitrogen tanks, watching Archer expectantly. Archer's guard was creeping toward red alert. He was beginning to believe that this was not one of his crewmen. So then who was it? And why was he here?

The man pointed to the pile of tanks. "I picked up unusual readings from under these tanks. Shouldn't we see what's under them?"

Archer's guard hit red alert. The question was meant to entice Archer into moving the canisters.

"Who are you?"

The Stranger turned to the canisters, picking one up and moving it. "These contained liquid nitrogen. Do you know how quickly liquid nitrogen can freeze a carbon based cell?" The crewman continued working while he waited for an answer.

"I asked who are you?"

As if not hearing the question, The Stranger continued, "All of these tanks probably exploded at once. If all that nitrogen was released onto a living being, that being would have gone straight into cryogenic stasis." He looked back at Archer as he removed the last canister, adding, "And if you know anything about cryogenic stasis, Captain, many people have been successfully revived from it in the last 140 years."

The Stranger motioned down. Archer glanced at the closed bench.

"Were you to revive her, you wouldn't want to go home," the Stranger told him.

Only Trip knew about that decision. "Who are you?"

The crewman leaned to the side, opening the bench. Archer's eyes followed his hand down and his breath caught as the seat was pulled up. He couldn't stop himself from moving closer, and he didn't notice The Stranger move behind him with a satisfied grin.

A girl in her late teens with shoulder length brown hair lay inside. Her eyes were fogged from being cryogenically frozen and fixed on a device in her hand. She wore a wireless earpiece. Fastened to her thigh was a holster from which the black matte handle of a gun poked out. A slender bladed knife was strapped to her opposite calf.

"Order Phlox to revive her, Jonathan," The Stranger told him. "She _wants_ to live."

Archer spun around, asking, "Who are--" His question died when he found that The Stranger was nowhere in sight.

Archer looked back down at the girl and then yelled over the din of the crew, "PHLOX!"

Everyone dropped what they were doing and crowded around the bench. Phlox pushed through the crowd, standing next to Archer.

"I have reason to believe she's in cryogenic stasis," Archer told Phlox. "Get her to Sickbay immediately and prove it one way or the other."

"If she was frozen like the others--" Phlox said.

"Verify it."

Phlox hesitated. "Right away, Captain."

Archer pushed through the crowd. He had to contact Starfleet and figure out what other secrets the Arcadian II held.


	2. Chapter 2

**CHAPTER 2**

Archer rubbed his eyes. He'd spent two days sifting through information on the Arcadian II but none of it helped to identify the mystery girl. His doorbell beeped and Porthos ran to greet the visitor.

"Come in," Archer called.

Phlox walked in, smiling at Porthos. "Hello, Porthos."

Archer didn't turn away from his reading.

"Was she cryogenically frozen?" Archer asked.

"Perfectly. How did you know that?"

"A disappearing stranger told me she would be."

"Daniels?"

"No. I've never seen him before."

"What do you want me to do with her?"

Archer turned to him, sitting back in his chair. "Could she be revived?"

"I don't know what the outcome would be if I tried. The longest time someone has been in cryogenic stasis and successfully revived was after thirty years. At first the individual appeared to be all right, but within five years, the person's body began deteriorating rapidly. _She_ is at least 140 years old; there's no telling what will happen."

Archer smiled. "I remember this movie about a man put into cryogenic stasis and revived thirty years later. He began growing old after a few days. I guess your saying that could happen to her?"

"The possibilities of what _could_ happen are regretfully limitless."

"What would you do if the decision were left up to you?"

"Embalm her and give her a proper burial."

Archer half expected that to be Phlox's answer, but he couldn't make his decision so hastily. He needed more information.

"Keep her in stasis for now. I need some time to see if Starfleet can find anything. Did you transmit photographs of her?"

"Yes. I'll be in Sickbay if you need me." Phlox left Archer's quarters.

Archer leaned forward on his legs, trying to think this situation through. Archer scrubbed his face with his hands, wishing for the answer to come soon. He rose, called Porthos and headed for the Captain's mess to meet T'Pol and Trip for supper.

#

Archer didn't notice Trip or T'Pol had fallen silent and were staring at him, because he was lost mulling over the mystery girl and The Stranger.

"Cap'n," Trip said.

Archer looked at him. "What?"

"I said I had something strange happened to me today."

Archer looked up at him. "What?"

"I was working at the shuttle's mission station and turned around and there was this crewman I'd never seen before standing there. I asked him who he was and he asked if I was curious about the girl found in the bench. I told him yeah, curious as hell. Then he said I should _implore_ you to revive her because she'll help convince you not to turn back. Then someone called me and when I turned back, he was gone. Like a ghost."

Archer looked down at his plate.

"Did he have brown hair and eyes, a long, oblong face, and was wearing a science uniform?" T'Pol asked.

"Yeah. How'd you know?"

"He visited me as well," she told them. "He came to my quarters and asked the same of me. He said that she was a living specimen of human history. He departed and when I went into the hall to ask him what he meant, he was gone."

"Why not revive her, Cap'n?" Trip asked him.

Archer frowned. "He's concerned with the future, and everyone else who's been concerned with the future has led us into some dark territory. Until I know who she is and what _he_ wants, I'm not having her revived."

"I'd like to know what she could tell us about the last moments of the Arcadian."

"You are assuming she wasn't already frozen by then, Trip," T'Pol pointed out.

Trip grinned at T'Pol. "You wanna know what she has to say, too."

"I do not believe the girl was an astronaut. I would like to know what her purpose aboard the craft was and why she appeared to be hiding."

Archer smiled at his plate.

"What?" Trip asked.

"Even people who haven't talked to this alien have asked to have her revived. Everyone is curious about her."

"So then why not do it?" Trip asked. "She's from our past, not our future. How could she possibly affect us?"

Trip had a good point. Archer leaned back and tapped the companel behind him.

"Archer to Doctor Phlox."

"Go ahead, Captain."

"Proceed with reviving the girl."

"Are you certain?"

"Yes. How long will this take?"

"Tentatively, three days."

"Keep me informed throughout the process."

"Yes, Captain."

"And so it begins," Archer quietly told them as he stood. "See you two in the morning." Archer called Porthos and left.

#

Archer walked up to the stasis chamber, staring through the frosty window at the girl. She looked like she was sleeping.

"Her vitals are stable," Doctor Phlox said, joining Archer.

"How much longer before she's out of here?"

"Another day and a half in the stasis chamber. I can't say how long before she regains consciousness once she's out."

"So she's going to live?"

"Perhaps. As I said before, Captain, what happens after she revives is still unknown. I don't want to be overly optimistic." Phlox turned, walking over to a box sitting on the counter and laying a hand on it. "Once I was able to remove her clothes, I was rather disturbed by what she had on her." Phlox picked up a clear box sitting next to the case. It was filled with a suspension gel and six small square bricks of what looked like clay. "I would like Lieutenant Reed to look at this. I doubt this is sculpting clay."

Archer nodded, looking back at the girl.

"You seem unsettled, Captain. You have been since you found her."

"This Stranger, this alien, wanted her brought back to life and was very persistent about it. And then he seems to have suddenly lost interest. I'm worried about what's going to happen once she comes to."

"_If_ she comes to."

"I'll send Malcolm down for the clay or whatever it is. And I'll have T'Pol pick a team to go through her personal effects." Archer walked toward the door.

#

Archer entered the commons room carrying a PADD. The girl's possessions were strewn across a table. Trip, Malcolm, Hoshi, and two more crewmen were scanning the items. T'Pol stood apart from the group with a book she was reading.

"Figure out what most of it is?" Archer asked.

"She had all the components she needed to make a bomb," Malcolm told Archer. He picked up a device, showing it to Archer. "This is a remote detonator and it has an eighty kilometer range so she could have detonated it from a safe distance. The clay bricks are C-4 explosives. There was enough there to completely destroy the Arcadian. I searched the database for information on the gun she carried. It was a special issue .45 with a silencer."

"Her headset was linked to a receiver," Hoshi added, "and the receiver was set to the same frequency that the shuttle was communicating with Houston on."

"She had a device in her hand. What was it?" Archer asked.

"It may have been some kind of tracking device," Trip said, "I got it to turn on, but whatever it used as a reference, we're no where near it."

Archer looked down the table at T'Pol. "Did you find anything, T'Pol?"

She looked up at him, closing the book. "Nothing of significance, Captain."

Archer nodded. "I found out who she is."

Archer walked to the monitor on the wall and pulled up a file with the girl's photo. She stood against a height marker that was marked off in feet and inches, wearing an orange jumpsuit and holding a number in front of her. She was wide-eyed with fear. Archer turned back to the crew, waiting for them to move closer.

"The information Starfleet found was declassified sixty years ago. Her name is Rachel Dawson, born in 1990 in Peoria, Illinois. Her family moved to Boulder, Colorado after her mother died in 2001. In 2005 she was in a warehouse when drug enforcement agents raided it. Rachel was found unconscious with a gun in her hand and the crime scene investigators linked the gun to bullets that killed three policemen at point blank. Rachel was tried as an adult, convicted of the murders and sentenced to lethal injection on March 20, 2007."

"After two failed appeals, her execution was carried out a month later and she was pronounced dead at fifteen and twelve hundred hours. However, she wasn't executed that day. Instead she was drafted into a nameless organization that was a branch of America's Central Intelligence Agency. Everything after that is sketchy or missing. We do know her expertise were explosives, fire arms, foreign languages, and hand to hand combat tactics, and that she assassinated at least two people. We don't know why she was onboard the Arcadian."

"Who were the two people she killed?" Hoshi asked.

"An ambassador in Nigeria and a diplomat in Mexico City."

Archer waited for his crew to talk, realizing this was a lot for them to take in. He had taken four hours to digest it before bringing it to them.

"Maybe she shouldn't have been revived after all," Hoshi said.

"Too late for that," Trip told her.

"Yes it is," Archer commented. "Malcolm."

Malcolm looked away from the screen to him. "Yes, sir?"

"I want the C-4 destroyed. Also post security at her bedside. Have all phasers that aren't being worn by security personnel locked in the armory cabinet and recode the lock. Only you will know the combination for the time being."

"Why do you want the security team, sir?"

Archer rested a hand on the ledge of the monitor. "Let's imagine you're a trained assassin and you wake up in a Sickbay you've never seen before, surrounded by people you don't know, and a doctor who is alien in both appearance and familiarity. What would be your first reaction?"

"Get away. Fast," Malcolm answered.

"With her training she is a weapon and I don't want anyone hurt. As for her belongings, recycle everything you can, and then pack everything else up."

"Aye, sir," they replied.

Archer left the room.

T'Pol looked at the monitor. She looked down at a book in her hand. The cover was made of rough handmade paper that had leaves and flowers pressed into it. The pages were smooth handmade paper with bits of plant leaves and seeds showing through. It was bound by a piece of nearly brittle leather that creaked at T'Pol's lightest touch. It was recyclable, but she couldn't destroy it. She had to finish reading it first. T'Pol left the room with the book.


	3. Chapter 3

**CHAPTER 3**

Archer ran through the halls into Sickbay, stopping short when he realized the situation. Rachel held a security guard hostage with a laser scalpel. Two more guards held phase pistols aimed at her. Phlox stood out of sight, watching the situation with a nervous expression. Archer slowly walked over to him.

"What happened?"

"She came to and took a hostage. She's demanding to speak to whoever is in charge."

"I guess being frozen didn't slow her down much."

"Actually, she can't see very well yet and she has a high fever. She needs to let me check her but at this point I believe my appearance would only panic her more."

"Wait here."

Archer slowly walked toward the stand off. He stepped around one of the security guards and Rachel's finger slid toward the activation button on the scalpel. Archer stopped walking.

"You can see me?" Archer asked.

Rachel didn't answer.

"Rachel, can you see me?"

"Who are you?" Rachel demanded.

"I'm Ca...Jon. I'm Jon."

"_Who_ are you?"

"I told you. I'm J--"

"NO! Who are you? Are you with NASA?"

"No. We aren't with NASA, Rachel. I see you've met Brad Goodman." Archer motioned to the man she was holding hostage.

"Where am I?" Rachel demanded.

"You're aboard a starship called Enterprise. I'm the captain of it."

"You're lying," she whispered.

"Have you met your doctor? Doctor Phlox?"

"Who?"

Archer turned, motioning Phlox to come to him. Archer turned back to Rachel, watching her watch Phlox walk up.

"Hello, Rachel. It's nice to see you're awake at last," Phlox said with a smile.

"Who...what...are _you_?"

"I am a Denobulan. I come from another planet."

"You're lying. This is a trick. I won't tell you anything! Better you kill me than them."

"Them?" Archer asked.

Rachel didn't answer the question.

"Oh. _Them_." Archer nodded. "Rachel, the organization you were drafted into has been disbanded. Most government branches were terminated after World War III ended. We still have a democratic government, but things are run much differently. And we have Starfleet, which oversees space travel and space colonization."

"This is a trick! This is some damned trick!"

"Why would we want to trick an assassin into talking to us?"

Rachel started crying. Brad slowly pulled away from her. He laid his hand on hers, gently pulling the scalpel away. He moved away, letting Archer move close to her. Rachel sank to the floor and he crouched with her.

"Phlox says you aren't feeling well. Let's get you up on a bed so he can make you better."

Rachel didn't resist Archer pulling her to her feet and helping her on the bed. She closed her eyes, crying harder. Despite knowing what she was, it was hard for Archer not to feel sorry for her.

#

T'Pol and Hoshi rounded the corner together. Down the hall two guards stood outside the door of Rachel's quarters. Hoshi flashed one a smile.

"How were things last night?" she asked the men.

"Good. The doors are frustrating her a little and I had to show her how to start the shower again. Otherwise she's doing well."

Hoshi tapped the doorbell, looking up at T'Pol.

"Be nice," Hoshi told her.

"I was not intending on being otherwise."

"I mean, try not to be so Vulcan."

T'Pol looked at Hoshi, raising her eyebrow. The door opened and Rachel hugged the wall next to it, staring at the floor

"Hi," Hoshi said with a smile. "I'm Hoshi and this is T'Pol. Captain Archer asked us to take you to the mess hall for breakfast and then show you around."

"Will there be a lot of people in the mess hall?"

"Maybe."

Rachel looked into her eyes. The fear in the teenager's eyes broke Hoshi's heart.

"I don't like crowds much."

"Considering the line of work you were in, I find that hard to believe," T'Pol said.

Hoshi elbowed T'Pol in the ribs.

"Why's that?" Rachel asked defensively.

"Was not a crowd the best way to cover your assassinations?"

Rachel looked down, a tear falling. Hoshi glared at T'Pol.

"I apologize. I assumed you wouldn't mind talking about your previous career."

"It wasn't a _career_," Rachel hissed. "A _career_ is something you're proud of and you don't mind telling people about! In a _career_ your boss won't kill you if you don't complete your assignment!"

"I meant no offense by my remark."

A tense silence fell between them for a few minutes.

Hoshi smiled. "I tell you what, we'll sandwich you between T'Pol, myself and the guards here and smuggle you to a table."

Rachel smiled. "That would draw more attention, not less."

Hoshi shrugged. "Well, secretly that was my intention, but I was just hoping you wouldn't realize it. I enjoy attention."

Rachel laughed.

"Besides, Chef made blueberry pancakes and ham and cheese omelets, and a plate of those with a view of a nebula couldn't start the morning off better."

"A nebula?"

"Yeah. It has a new forming sun at its center and is absolutely gorgeous! Come on." Hoshi held her arm out.

Rachel slid her arm around Hoshi's, pulling close to her. The two started walking.

"Do you like living in space like this?" Rachel asked Hoshi.

Hoshi smiled and started telling her about life in space. T'Pol followed them, observing their bonding with intrigue.

#

T'Pol was waiting in the hall when the lift door opened and Archer immediately recognized her subtle 'I want' expression. He wondered if she was aware that she'd developed it or if he just knew her well enough to see it. He lowered the PADD he was reading.

"Yes?" Archer asked.

"I would like Rachel to accompany Commander Tucker and I when we go to collect samples of the nebula gasses."

"No."

"Captain, she is interested in seeing the nebula closer and I have already offered to take her."

"The answer's no. She can't be trusted."

"She has done nothing to prove she cannot be trusted."

"She held a laser scalpel to Ensign Goodman's throat, T'Pol. That's a pretty good indication."

"She was frightened."

"T'Pol, I am not going to change my mi--"

"We cannot judge her because of her past life. Based on our own pasts, Captain, doing so would make us hypocrites."

Archer's lips pressed into a thin line.

"Okay. Fine. But someone else is going with you two, and I--"

"We'll be leaving in ten minutes in shuttle pod one. Perhaps you should bring some work as you generally get bored on survey missions." T'Pol walked away.

Archer was dumbstruck. '_What just happened?_'

#

The shuttle pod launched from _Enterprise_ and turned toward the nebula. Rachel stood next to Trip, staring wide-eyed at the nebula. T'Pol sat at a workstation; maneuvering the sensors to get the readings she was seeking. Archer sat on a bench with his back to the wall, watching the three. He had brought several PADDs with work he needed to get done, but he was more interested in seeing what Rachel was going to do.

"Are we going near it?" Rachel asked Trip.

"In it."

"In it!?" Rachel looked at him. "We're going in it? Is that safe? Have you done that before? Isn't it made of gas? Couldn't it like ignite or something? What if--"

Trip's laughter cut her off. He smiled up at her. "Yes, yes, yes, yes, and no."

A wide smile settled on her lips.

Archer wonder, '_Is it possible that she could smile any brighter?_'

"This is has to be the coolest thing I've ever done." Rachel sucked in her bottom lip.

"Coolest? I haven't heard that expression since...since I was in grade school!" Trip said.

"Don't you think this is cool?"

"I don't find it so 'cool' anymore."

'_Nor do I_,' Archer sadly thought.

"You've _gotta_ be kidding me!" Rachel glanced at Trip. She moved closer to the window. "It is totally amazing."

They were entering the edge of the nebula and the colored gas swirled around them.

"It's okay," Trip said.

"Gorgeous!"

"Maybe."

"It is!"

"Maybe." Trip grinned.

Rachel batted his arm. "Now you're just being ornery."

Trip chuckled.

"This morning T'Pol told me nebulas are made from dying stars or are star nurseries. Did _you_ know that?"

Archer glanced at T'Pol. She didn't even glance up from her work. Had she lost interest in Rachel already?

"I sure did," Trip answered.

"I think she missed something."

T'Pol and Archer both looked at Rachel.

"What did I miss, Rachel?" T'Pol asked.

Rachel smiled. "I think they're Nature's way of making death and birth look beautiful."

"Death and life are not identical," T'Pol said.

Rachel shrugged, looking back up at the nebula. "Maybe they are. Maybe--"

Trip reached out and squeezed Rachel's wrist. "'Nough talk about death, Rachel, okay? Let's just enjoy the nebula. After all, it's been a while since I got to see one through new eyes."

Rachel smiled, looking back out the window. Archer listened to the awe in her excited words. She saw the universe in a way his jaded soul had forgotten about.

A realization suddenly hit Archer. '_I wonder if the Stranger knew she would be so intrigued by the future? Bet this puts a damper on his malicious plans._'

#

Archer strolled through the halls with Porthos trotting alongside. It felt like a Sunday: relaxed, lazy, with no pressing matters. Maybe it was Sunday. Mentally, Archer laughed at himself, realizing he didn't know what day it was. The days had blurred since Rachel had been revived four weeks ago.

"Captain Archer," he heard Phlox call.

Archer stopped, turning. Phlox came around the corner.

"Captain, we need to talk in private."

Archer looked up and down the hall. "There's no one here."

"Captain, please," Phlox earnestly pressed.

Archer looked around them and spotted a storage room. Phlox and Porthos followed him into the storage room.

"What's wrong?" Archer asked.

"I finished running the latest tests on Rachel's blood a little while ago and there is a problem."

Archer sat down on a crate. "What?"

"Her cells are showing aging at an expeditious rate and I found markers of Alzheimer's disease. According to her family medical records, it's hereditary. Her brother died with it fifty years after her execution."

"We have a cure for Alzheimer's," Archer argued.

"The treatment normally takes three months before there are any results in a normal human. Rachel will be lucky to survive another four to five weeks, consequently the treatment would be fruitless to administer. It would not counteract the degeneration of her brain fast enough to stop the disease."

Archer closed his eyes, turning his head. "Have you told her about this?"

"I told T'Pol. She and Ensign Sato are with her right now."

Archer shook his head, looking at the floor. Tears stung his eyes, but he wasn't about to let them fall. "Thank you, Phlox."

He nodded as he left the room.

Archer closed his eyes, still not allowing himself to cry.

"I made the wrong decision, Porthos, and now she has to pay for it."

Porthos jumped onto the crate and moved close to Archer. Archer didn't attempt to pet or hold him, so he sat down and waited quietly at his master's side.


	4. Chapter 4

**CHAPTER 4**

Archer lay on his bed, tossing a water polo ball in the air. His thoughts kept returning to his poor choice and he couldn't shake the guilt. He let his head roll to the side when the doorbell beeped.

"Come in," Archer said.

Rachel walked in. Archer sat up, watching her. She looked around his quarters, her eyes stopping on the books on his headboard.

"Can I help you?" Archer asked.

Rachel looked at him, a tear sliding down her face. "Why did you order me to be revived?"

Archer's throat tightened and he couldn't swallow. He looked down at the water polo ball in his hands, not sure what to say.

"Don't get me wrong, Jonathan, I'm grateful that you did."

Archer looked at her. She had crouched down and was petting Porthos. Tears streamed down her cheeks.

"You don't look grateful," Archer said.

"I just found out I'll be dead in a few weeks and probably lose my mind before then. How do you expect me to look?"

'_I deserved that_,' Archer scolded himself. He didn't reply.

Rachel stood, walking around to the windows. Archer didn't turn, just tilted his head so he could listen to her. She leaned on the window edge, watching space.

"Why do you people take everything for granted?" Rachel asked.

Archer turned, staring at her back. "Excuse me?"

"I was surprised when Trip told me how many kinds of ice cream the resequencer can make. He said he wasn't surprised because he's use to it." Rachel turned, meeting Archer's gaze. "And you act like flying around in space at these speeds is nothing exciting. Or those shuttle pods that you have that can fly in space, air, and water, aren't anything to talk about. Why do all of you act like that?"

"I'm sure there were things you took for granted in your time. Like cars and grocery stores."

Rachel started crying harder, shaking her head before she spoke. "Oh, I did. Before I was framed for murder and supposedly executed, I did. Everything. I had it so good and I messed it up so bad. Just picked the wrong past time."

"You were a drug addict?"

"Marijuana and cocaine. It helped me forget my mother was dead. I was feeling sorry for myself. 'Oh pity me!' And then the gun ended up in my hands." Rachel's crying subsided and she became very still. She put her hands behind her, pinning her arms against the wall with her body. "I was supposed to destroy Arcadian II. But I wasn't going to do that. I was going to go to Mars, plant the bombs in the habitat and set off an alarm to get the astronauts back into the shuttle. And then blow it."

"And where were you going to be?"

"In the habitat."

"Why? Why not come back to Earth?"

"I... I was getting out of line, couldn't be controlled. I was a risk." Rachel shook her head.

"To the organization?"

Rachel nodded.

"What made you a risk to them?"

"I would set off fire alarms to get people out of buildings before I detonated bombs. I would fire over a crowd to make them scatter so only the target would die. I refused to kill one target, my last target before Arcadian II."

"Who was it?"

"A teenager my age. It was supposed to be a message to his dad. But his dad got an anonymous letter about the threat and put the kid in protective custody. Foiled their assassination plans and they suspected I had sent the letter."

"Did you?"

She nodded.

Archer looked at his water polo ball. "Sounds like you did everything you could to keep from being evil."

"There's no such thing when you pull the trigger or detonate a bomb."

"Yes there is." Archer looked at her. "I've been in your shoes, Rachel, and when it's one life versus many, I've chosen one life before."

Rachel shrugged, looking down. "The point is that after all of that, I ended up frozen and then revived. I got a second chance at life, Jonathan." Rachel smiled at him. "I'm thankful. And before I forget you and die, I just needed to say thank you."

Archer nodded a couple times. Rachel walked over to his computer, tapping the keypad.

"I love your computers! They're so fast."

Archer smiled, laughing. Rachel sat down on the bed next to him. She cocked her head to the side when a song began playing.

"Who is this?" Archer asked.

"The Beatles."

"Oh no. My great-grandfather loved The Beatles and The Rolling Stones. I can't stand them."

"Listen to the words."

Archer obeyed. The song ended and they were silent for a few minutes. Rachel turned to him.

"When I die this time, don't revive me again, okay? Just let it be."

Archer didn't answer. Rachel picked up his hand in both of hers.

"Please, Jonathan? Please promise me."

Archer nodded. "I promise."

Rachel threw her arms around him, giving him a tight hug. Archer was surprised by the response, but hugged her back. Rachel stood up, looking at the water polo ball.

"Is there somewhere to play basketball?"

Archer looked at the ball and then back up at her. "This is a water polo ball."

"Oh."

"But we do have basketballs." Archer sat the ball down, standing. "Let's go see how good you are, old lady."

Rachel laughed, following him and Porthos out.

#

Archer entered Sickbay seeing Doctor Phlox behind a sheer curtain. Archer walked into the curtained area, standing at Rachel's bedside. In five weeks her skin had dried and wrinkled, and her brown hair had turned snow-white.

"Is she resting?" Archer asked.

"Yes. She'll pass soon." Phlox left the curtained area.

Archer picked up a stool and sat it next to the bio-bed. He sat down, sliding his hand into hers. Archer looked up when he heard the Sickbay doors open. Hoshi, Trip and T'Pol walked in, stopping Phlox to talk to them. Archer looked back at Rachel.

"What the hell was I thinking?" Archer whispered to her.

A voice replied, "You were thinking that she'd choose life over death."

Archer looked up. The Stranger stood on the opposite side of the bed. He no longer donned a Starfleet uniform; instead he was dressed in robes and a tall hat. And the way he grinned seemed to mock the sincerity of his words.

Archer turned his head to call for the others, but the words died in his throat. Hoshi had the curtain pushed open, frozen in mid-step. A solid tear rested on her cheek. He could see Phlox, T'Pol and Trip, frozen in conversation. Archer looked back at The Stranger. He was looking down at Rachel, one hand tenderly smoothing down her hair. He looked sidelong at Archer.

"You _did_ just as I knew you would. Sympathy is so strong in humans, Jonathan."

"Who are you? What have you done to my crew?"

"What I've done is harmless. Really. It is. And who I am, is of no consequence. Rachel deserved a chance to live."

Archer sprang to his feet, bellowing, "She only lived for eight weeks! What kind of a chance is that?"

"Why can't humans get past the irrelevance of time? Three weeks, ninety years. Does time really make the sum of a life? Even though she didn't realize it, Rachel managed to do something I knew no one else could. She gave _you_ a refreshed view on things that had become mundane." The Stranger looked down at T'Pol. "She touched a Vulcan's withdrawn soul." The Stranger lifted his eyebrows. "Which was a particularly favorite moment of mine! I think I'll watch that numerous times for millennia to come."

"So you _are_ from the future?"

"Sometimes."

"What the hell does that mean? Does this have something to do with the Temporal Cold War?"

"The Temporal Cold War!? Tish-tosh!" The Stranger laughed. "That petty dispute has no relevance to me, except when it interferes with _my_ fun. And then I have to go in and fix all the annoying changes everyone keeps making! Everyone involved should take up a hobby or I just might get angry."

"So if you don't care about it, then why all of this? Why have her revived?"

"Because I couldn't have you turning back, Jonathan. Then there would never be any Captain Piccards or Janeways or Siskos and _I_ would consider that a personal loss."

Archer was completely lost now. "What are you talking about!?"

"Oh, that's right! You won't be around for any of that. Pitty." He cocked his head as if listening to something Archer couldn't hear. With a wide Cheshire grin and exuberant voice he cried, "Ta-ta!" And then he vanished, his voice echoing behind him, "Don't forget your promise to Rachel, Jonathan."

"Captain," Hoshi said.

Archer turned his head, watching her walk up beside him. His heart skipped a beat when the monitor alarm went off. He looked up at the monitor, staring the straight line on the heart monitor. Doctor Phlox rushed over and started to resuscitate Rachel. Archer heard Hoshi start crying. He reached across Rachel, grabbing Phlox's hands to stop him. Phlox looked up.

"Stop," Archer quietly ordered.

"Capt--"

"She lived a good life. Let her go. It's what she wanted."

Phlox slowly pulled back. Archer bowed his head, his guilt coming back with a furious vengeance. He closed his eyes and he wasn't ashamed to cry this time.

#

Archer bounced his water polo ball off the ceiling, his mind light years away. He caught the ball, looking out the port windows. Somewhere in the vacuum of space, a coffin with Rachel's aged body was drifting with the Arcadian II astronauts. His doorbell beeped and he sat up.

"Come in."

T'Pol entered. Archer looked at the book she was carrying, wondering which Vulcan text she was expecting him to read this time. She held it out to him and he noticed it didn't look like the other worn texts she brought him. This one was rough and tied shut with a piece of leather. It didn't even have any title printed on it. He frowned at her.

"What is it?"

"Something a human should have."

Archer sat the ball beside him and took the book. He untied the leather string, opening it to the middle. Flowing cursive writing filled the page and in reading two sentences, Archer realized this was a journal. He looked up at her.

"Whose is this?"

"Rachel's."

"Why didn't you recycle it?"

"It is something of a historical text and I thought it might help you better understand her plight."

Archer looked at the page. He turned back to the first page, running his finger over the top line.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome. Good night, sir."

Archer didn't look up as she left. He laid back on his bed, running his finger over the line again.

"Computer," Archer paused for the soft beep. "Play 'Let it Be' by The Beatles."

The song began playing, fading into background noise as Archer read about Rachel's life.


End file.
